


Mirage

by ykoriana



Series: tearing you asunder [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, POV First Person, Spoilers, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-26
Updated: 2009-05-26
Packaged: 2019-11-03 21:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17885438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ykoriana/pseuds/ykoriana
Summary: Spock is perhaps the only person ever who can truly say he found himself...





	Mirage

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on May 26th 2009 on Livejournal.
> 
> I still very much like the 2009 Star Trek film, though J.J. Abrams really blew it with Into Darkness.
> 
> To be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about this one. It was the hardest to write, maybe because I had to pause between the other two and this one, maybe because Spock's thoughts may be the most enigmatic of all. I always worry that I wrote him too emotional.

Somewhere beyond the invisible veils that hold universes apart, Vulcan exists and my Mother lives. There my people live and prosper still. There another version of me toils unknowing his ultimate destiny will take him full circle, back to the beginning of it all. Only, another beginning, to another, different story.

Though it may seem so to some, this is not a comforting thought. Rather it elicits an emotional response I have controlled with difficulty in the past few days. Senseless. Utterly random and senseless, this succession of events that nearly obliterated an entire race and all of its achievements. I mourn for all the people whose lives were cut short. For those who will never be born. No more soft chanting will echo from Mount Seleya. No more youngsters will cross Vulcan’s Forge. No more shall a million haughty eyes watch my every step, waiting that I tumble and fall. No more a million voices shall whisper _half-breed_ as I pass -

It is terrifying. It is liberating. This I feel, deep inside, where I keep that which always before I refused to face. And I burn with grief and shame and a great anguish that engulfs me. I feel blood pounding in my ears. My eyes jerk open.

I find myself unable to properly meditate. Not since that day have I known peace. But, to be quite honest, I did not know peace before.

Oh, but I feigned it so well. So many times that cool, serene exterior belied a great maelstrom within. And beyond it the great, encompassing terror that any show of emotion would be seen as weakness. _Human_ weakness. Only now, that everything I ever held as constant was lost, I see the folly of my actions.

Only now can I begin to understand his words, my words. _Do what feels right._

Is it really that simple?

We did not meet after that. My other self did not offer information about the events of his timeline. I did not seek it. In this, I believe, we are as one: well aware of the unpredictable consequences of imparting such information. And yet, perhaps the damage – if one might call it such – has been done already.

Quantum physics has long postulated that the mere act of observation affects the observed. Likewise, has knowledge of the mere existence of our alternate selves changed our actions, even if we know nothing of theirs?

This is most evident in the Captain’s – Jim’s – case. He was changed by his encounter with my _other_. I see it clearly now. He shared at least some knowledge of the future with Jim. How much? I do not know. And by changing Jim… he has changed me. He told him how to make me lose control. And this forced me to acknowledge things that otherwise I might have succeeded in keeping buried for many years.

Things that perhaps _he_ succeeded in keeping buried for many years.

Something was shared between them, deeper than thought or reason. I’ve caught the way in which Jim now glances at me strangely, knowingly. From his demeanor I infer my other self conducted a meld with him. It would be the most logical way to convey a large amount of information in the shortest amount of time. But what else was passed on? _A friendship that will define you both in ways you cannot yet realize._ Something indescribable was shared between them, yes – between _him_ and _his_ Kirk, between _him_ and _my_ Kirk –, and I feel both awe and envy.

Who am I now? Who was _he_?

When I was a child, Mother would oftentimes tell me ancient tales of Earth. Poetic fiction to entertain and amuse the mind, always carrying a moral lesson. One such tale told of a great city lost in the sea. It was said that one could still see it from the briny windswept shore, make out silhouettes of proud castles in the mist. Some had endeavored to find it, only to sail day after day after day towards the horizon, the taunting glance of that ethereal place forever beyond their reach.

And yet I, Spock, have seen and touched that mirage – my other, elder self, the person I became in a different time and place.

Such a tale, so simple, so full of painful truth. I stand now on that windswept shore, looking upon what might have been. And I am changed already. I can no longer deny my emotions, both human and Vulcan. I cannot cleave myself in half. I cannot abandon the heritage of my Vulcan forefathers… anymore than I can set aside that part of me that is all I have left of _her_.

I walk the Enterprise halls without destiny, and yet somehow I always find myself on the bridge. I occupy my station. It is the only place I have known some solace, these past few days. In the midst of exchanging a somewhat juvenile anecdote with Sulu, Kirk turns in his chair, looks at me and smiles.

I see now, clearly, the man he is becoming, and the bond just born between us, so new, so fragile. There is trust in his eyes now, where before was only defiance. Did _I_ earn that trust? I… want to. And I want it to stem from my actions in the _here_ and the _now_ , not from what another me did in another time.

The path is not without difficulty. Always the familiar, ingrained logic pulls at me, makes me want to withdraw every tentative step I give towards him. But I strive forward, because this is what feels right.


End file.
